


Not what I signed up for

by White_Magician



Category: White Collar
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One Night Stand, Oral, Rescue, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Teasing, creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Magician/pseuds/White_Magician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being dumped by your boyfriend, you decide to go buy yourself a drink. In the bar, a creep hits on you, but you are rescue by a knight in shining armour. Why not ask the stranger if he wants a bit of fun? Little did you know that you would have more than what you've bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not what I signed up for

**Author's Note:**

> Asked by Anonymous on whitecollarimagines.tumblr.com, here is your request "smut where you and neal had a one night stand and end up going on a date."!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading this. Comments are welcome! :)  
> Keep in mind that English is NOT my native language, but I try my best to pass my emotions!

You downed the shot of tequila in one go, feeling with satisfaction the liquid leave a trail of fire in your throat. You put the glass upside down and tapped the counter for the bartender to serve you a fifth one. He stared at you with that irritating, judging look, as if a woman like you should not drink that much. Any other day, you would have agreed. But tonight, fuck him. Fuck all the men of this planet and beyond.

Oh no, you were not mad that your boyfriend of five years dumped you by social network. Nooooo, seeing his status gone from "in a relationship" to "single" (accompanied with an horrible message saying it was your fault, not his) did not make you a teensy bit angry. It threw you in a fit of rage as you had never experience before. That ungrateful bastard!  
Your heart sank a bit, knowing that he was surely banging his neighbour by now, that black-haired beauty he had taken to the restaurant last week. When you were still together...  
You had several supportive calls from your friends, but let's face it, you could not cry over that jerk or take 50 pounds eating ice creams all night. As a male friend of yours, who was not for all that emotional crap girls always want, so delicately put it: you needed to get laid.

Your cheek rested on your hand, you kept swirling your new glass of alcohol in front of you, pensive. If you knew how to seduce young stallions, you would have been into action already, but you were just so awkward and so embarrassed to fail that you had given up that part of your education. You were just the old stereotype of a girl waiting for a man to come talk to her and then showing him if you were interested or not. You were usually not that lucky as you generally attracted weirdos or...

"Hey, lady. Ya drinkin' alone?" A man of forty, forty-five years took the seat next to you and smiled at you with a predatory smile that made you shiver inwardly.

Weirdos or creeps. At the moment, you were betting on the latter.

"I am," you replied with a very forced smile that you hope would drive him away. "and I would like very much to keep it that way."

Of course, the man just ignored your wished and pushed himself closer to you. He reeked of cigarettes and you could smell the scent of something not so legal lingering around him. You tried your best to avoid his insisting gaze and just toyed with the glass you had in hands. He leaned toward you, and closed his grubby fingers around your arm, the tips caressing your skin.

"Com'on, sweetheart," he slurred, his heavy-lidded eyes leaving your eyes to roam your figure. "I bet we could've some good fun ya and I."

You scrunched your nose at the simple idea of getting into anything sexual with a man that could be your father, especially one that resembled your uncle Marty. You rolled your eyes and bit your lips to keep them shut, because telling him to fuck off would only piss him off and surely get you in trouble. You saw some movement behind the guy and your eyes fell on the most handsome man that graced the earth. He was wearing a black tuxedo suit with a turquoise tie that delightfully matched his gorgeous blue eyes. When he looked your way, his gaze stopped at you. He must have seen the look of distress on your face as he armed himself with a pretty smile revealing his shiny white teeth and walked up to you. He hooked an arm around your waist, pressing you to him, and glared at the man with a polite smile.

"Honey," he said with a tone that betrayed his (fake) anger. "Who's this?"

You were too shocked to talk after such a bold move and you just gaped at him instead of answering like a normal person would, but the creep did not seem to notice as he retreated quickly, his horrible paws off you the instant he saw you were taken. When you did not reply, the stranger just kept talking.

"What business do you have with my fiancée?" He demanded, his voice like one of a jealous boyfriend.

The middle-aged man took a step back, his hands up in defence, and stuttered that you had not uttered a thing about getting married or so, that it was all a mistake and that he had to leave anyway. Surprisingly enough he did go out without a fight and even wished you two all the best before he took his coat and ran out the door. The stranger relaxed and let you go, allowing you to turn to him and just do your best not to drool on him.

"Thank you for that." You exclaimed, your mouth still open in awe. "That was... life-saving... and quite daring."  
"You're welcome." The brunette chuckled, his lips turned up into that exquisite smile. "You seemed like you were about to either kill yourself with your glass or murder him. Either way, I had to intervene."

You laughed a bit, thanking him again to have saved you, and gulped a bit when you watched him sit down on the stool next to you. He gave you his charming smile, that had surely melted thousand hearts before yours, and extended his hands.

"Let's do this properly. Hi! I'm Neal."  
"Hi, Neal." You giggled, shaking his big hand in your small one. "I'm (Y/N)."

Rather than going back where he came from as you expected him to, he just remained there and ordered some fancy cocktail with an umbrella. He eyed your drink with a smirk.

"So. Bad break-up?"

You could have tried to hide it and pretend everything was fine, that you were not the kind of girl to drink her sorrows away, but your intense feeling of betrayal had not dimmed a bit.

"The worst. Broke up over social media, like the coward he has always been."  
"Ouch," he hissed with a pained expression.  
"Ouch, indeed." You gulped a mouthful of tequila, leaving only a centimetre of the amber liquid in your glass. "But who am I kidding? He was a douche and I should have kicked his ass out of my life a long time ago."

The stranger laughed, the melodic sound planting a smile on your face. He asked you to tell him more and you did almost mindlessly. The need to spill it all out was overwhelming and you had never felt better than when your bag of betrayal and sad stories was empty. He, in exchange, explained some of his relationships, especially the latter who was the most painful of them all, he said. That girl, named Sara, left him, even though he declared his love for her. Gradually, you got closer to each other, your elbows casually brushing from time to time. You listened to his stories as carefully as he listened to yours, and it was quite refreshing to hear that a guy like that, a living Apollo, had the same problem as a girl like you, the every plain girl you could find in the streets.   
He seemed rather reluctant to leave and, finding him rather attractive, you gathered up your courage -or rather the alcohol in your blood did- and opened your mouth, asking the burning question your had on your mind for a few minutes now.

"I-I don't usually do that... oh god, I've even never done that before... but... would you like to...? Come over to my place?"

His smile faltered for a second and you don't know if it was because he found the idea attractive or horrible. 

"I-I-I... sorry, that was... inappropriate... I"  
"No, no, no!" Neal quickly said with that bark-like laugh. "I- I just have something important to tell you beforehand, (Y/N) and I'm not really sure you'll be that eager to take me home after what I'm about to tell you."

Wow. He looked so intense, maybe a bit tired now that you looked at it. As if the burden he was about to share with you had been following him his all life, haunting his every move and decision. You had no idea how true that was. He sighed heavily, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he had mustered all his courage to talk.

"I'm a con. An ex-con to be precise. I'm currently working for the FBI and I act as a consultant on art thefts, forgeries and other things that could call for my expertise. Even though I have the right to wander freely, because, like I said, I'm not a con anymore, I'm on a leash."

Was that a joke?

"A-a leash?" you stammered, your eyebrows furrowed into a confused frown.

His lips stretched in a sad smile as his hand slipped down his trousers and tugged the lower part of his pant leg up. It revealed a tracking anklet firmly wrapped around Neal's ankle, shining with a discreet green light. He let the material drop, to hide the anklet from your gaze, and, when your eyes looked up, they met his. He was gauging your reaction you could see, his face expressionless and his eyes shining with expectations. He arched an eyebrow, as if he meant to ask you what was your answer to his revelation. Surprisingly enough, you didn't know what to think.

"Are you going to rob me?" You blurted out before you could stop it.

It was apparently not the answer he had anticipated and just laughed softly at your question.

"No, that's not my intention."  
"Good," you rambled. "Because I've nothing valuable to steal, let alone art, unless you want to steal my nephew's drawings on my fridge. He said it WAS art, but I'm still not sure... it's abstract enough though." 

He seemed to grow more and more amused by your nervous babbling and was polite enough to try not grin too much. Maybe you were too trusting, but if he was playing the honesty card, you would too. He maybe had been a criminal - and maybe still was- but that was none of your concern as he would disappear from your life after what you hoped would be a long, fun, decadent night of pleasure.

"I live a few streets away from here, is it on your radius or...?" You asked, pointing vaguely to the direction of your apartment with your thumb.  
"It should work." That infuriating smirk was twisting your stomach with anticipation.

Twenty minutes later, you were fumbling with the keys of your apartment, struggling to get the door opened, while Neal was attacking your neck with kisses and caressing the small of your back with one hand. Once the key clicked, you turned your back to the door which you quickly kicked opened and pulled Neal by his collar, crushing his lips to yours into a bruising kiss.

He spun you and closed the door by gently pushing you against it, his tongue exploring your mouth and caressing your lips and teeth. One of his hands, cupped the back of your neck, burying his fingers into your silky hair whereas the other was less chaste and roamed your thigh, going up and up until it found your ass cheek.  
His lips slipped lower, nibbling at your neck with his hot breath tickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine. He kissed your collarbone and nipped the flesh there, his hand flying to your front to unbutton your shirt. You laced your hands at the back of his neck, tugging a bit at the black curls, before caressing his lean shoulders and his chest and working on getting his tuxedo jacket and shirt off him. After he pressed his body against yours, his hand hooked your legs just below your knees, urging you to wrap them around his waist. You did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his neck, but not without grinding your throbbing core against his growing bulge, and tore a deep moan from the back of his throat.

"Where is your ..." He panted, bright eyes full of lust looking up at you with lust and impatience.  
"Down the corridor, door on the left," you breathed, head pointing in the general direction.

Clothes began to fall here and there in your apartment, leaving a trail toward your bedroom. With gentle car, he placed you on the bed and he suspended his actions to look at you with that sheer intensity that you were beginning to like. His fingers played a moment with the waistband of your jeans and your licked your lips in response. His gaze flickered to them before coming back to your eyes. His frown, however, was not something you appreciate to see on his face.

"What's wrong?" You asked, caressing his cheek with the tips of your fingers.  
"Do you really want to do this?" He murmured, the strange hurt in his voice making you think that something was wrong.  
"I am a criminal, (Y/N)." he continued, with that soft tone that resembled one of a guilty child. "Why would you... you know... do that with me? I could have lied to you and could be trying to rob you right now."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, as you felt a wave of anger overwhelming you. Bending your knee on his right side, you caught him off guard - you could see it at the way his eyes widened in surprise - and flipped him off until you were straddling him, you hands on each side of his face.

"Okay, pretty boy. I know that Sara girl messed you up pretty bad and put all kinds of ideas in your head, but don't you see how much I don't care? Do you think we are all saints down here?" you laughed, making the corners of his lips quiver. "You seemed too damn righteous down at the bar to hurt anyone willingly. You are my hero in a shining tux, okay? Think of yourself as a Robin Hood in disguise, robbing rich people and saving damsels in distress from creep. How does that sound to you?"

He beamed at you with his pearly teeth and just shrugged, now too embarrassed to say something serious. Wanting something more than just a shrug, you pressed your sex against his length and stroke him with a long, slow movement of your pelvis. He immediately bit his lips to stifle a moan and closed his eyes, a little frown of pleasure on his face.

"What was that, pretty boy? It sounded like a "yes, (Y/N), you're totally right", but I'm not sure I heard correctly." You teased him some more until he stilled your with both hands on your hips.  
"Yeah, yeah," he rapidly gasped, eyes shooting open. "You're right. Damn, woman, are you blackmailing me?"  
"Nope" you whispered in a giggly tone as you leaned you face to softly bit his jaw. "I would call that opening your eyes to the wonderful situation you are into."  
"Sounds... appropriate."

You smiled at each other before jumping off his lap and beginning to peel his remaining clothes off while he did the same with yours. When you reached for his boxer, his erection sprung free in your hand, eager to be taken care of. Almost unconsciously, you pumped him a few times earning an oh so gratifying groan from his lips and you smirked at the sound. Without warning, you took him in your mouth, nearly all of him without gagging anyway. He seemed to appreciate it greatly as he uttered a moaning "Oh" before sinking his fingers in your hair.  
You dutifully bobbed your head, licking that vein on his shaft that pulsed against your tongue. You felt some pre-cum leaking from the head as it hit the back of your throat and the taste of him was even better than you imagined, especially with all the dirty sounds that escaped his lips. Your hands roamed his skin, squeezed his perfect behind and pushed quicker into your mouth. They then caressed the inside of his thighs, your thumbs leaving trails of fire behind them, and met at his sex, one hand stroking what your mouth could not reach and the other gently fondling his balls. His hips began to buckle uncontrollably and his hands touched your temple, reaching for you. At this, you looked up only to see him begging you to stop. You released him with a pop, creasing your brows in confusion. Was he not feeling good.

"It was fantastic, (Y/N)," he said, reading the question on your face, "but I would like to play too."

He wrapped an hand around your wrist and pulled you to him, making you bounce with a laugh on the mattress, just beside him. He bent his head in your neck, nipping at your jaw, while his hands cupped you breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples. He kneaded the sensitive flesh until he could not control himself anymore and pressed his body against yours, his tongue teasing your ear lobe while his hot palm travelled down you lower back, squeezed your ass with a low growl, and slipped to your front to cup your wet pussy. You stifled a moan, burying your nose in his hear, inhaling that sweet fragrance of musk and cologne.  
He eased two fingers into you which slid almost to easily with your arousal. His longs fingers pumped in and out achingly slow, his thumb casually brushing your clit, but not enough to bring you any release. Then, he created a steadier and faster rhythm, curling his index deep inside you until he found the spot that was going to make melt from pleasure.  
You pulled your lips between your teeth, barely containing your whimpers, and closed your eyes as you writhed beneath him. Were you looking at him, you would have seen his smirk and the lewd way he licked his lips when your hand reached for his arms for support, as if you were about to fall into an abyss of bliss and wanted to drag him with you. His free hand felt like a feather on your skin, caressing your every curve with care. He murmured something your hazy mind was not able to catch, but the sound of his low voice, thick and hoarse from desire, made your insides twist with want. As a knot of warmth began to form in your stomach, you immediately gripped his wrist, stopping him from making you cum, hooded eyes fixed on his gorgeous face. 

"I want to come with you inside me," you mewled, sounding so needy, so desperate; something you had never been during a sexual intercourse.

He groaned, nodding passionately, before opening your legs for him, sliding between them and sheathing his thick length inside you. A deep rumble of satisfaction echoed in his throat, the vibrations reverberating through your entire body like the beginning of fireworks.   
At first, his thrusts were gentle, careful, to let you time to adjust yourself to him, but then he pushed himself deeper into you, burying his cock in you at a painfully slow pace. Your nails were scratching his shoulders at this point, his teeth covering your neck with lovebites and sucking the skin hard enough to leave bruises. His fingers dug into your hips, arching your pelvis and changing the angle to hit your sensitive spot with each stroke. A not so familiar tightening was building incredibly fast in your stomach, threatening to explode at any moment now.

"Please," the words that escaped your lips no more than breathless whimpers, urging him to go faster. "Please."

He grunted something that resembled a 'fuck', probably the first time you heard that perfect gentleman curse and he wrapped your legs around his waist, before pounding into you with an unforgiving regularity, fast and relentless. He nibbled at your throat, teasing that sensitive spot in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. His movement quickened, becoming a little more erratic by the second as he was also close to his release, and your hips met his every thrust until you were uncontrollably moaning his name loudly enough for him to hear. One of his hands slipped between the two of you, reaching between your thighs and started rubbing your bundle of nerves harshly.   
You cried out and threw your head back, your fingers clenching around his dark locks and shut your eyes tightly as you came hard, your walls tightened around his cock. Your vision blurred for a moment as the fire of your orgasm raged in your belly, sending you on cloud nine and even beyond. He followed you seconds after, pulsing inside you with throaty groans, holding you close against his hips.  
His body felt burning hot when he slumped against yours, waiting for both of you to catch your breath. Your foreheads were now touching in the aftermath of your release and your noses brushed lazily as he placed a chaste kiss on your lips. The action felt very intimate, but not as much as what followed. He shifted, slipping next to you, and tangled a hand in your hair to cradle you in his arms. Instinctively, you cuddled up to him, blissfully closing your eyes, and sighing in contentment while he did pretty much the same. Even though you would part ways the following day, you were determined to enjoy this as much as you could. Finally, you fell asleep on his chest, lulled into a deep slumber by his steady breathing. 

When you awoke the next morning, the spot next to you was disappointingly cold and empty, a sign that your handsome stranger had left long ago, probably to spare you from the uneasiness of seeing each other in the morning. You groggily got up and wrapped the sheets around you before making your way to the kitchen. You were surprised to find a plate of pancakes waiting for you on the counter with a sheet from your notepad.

Thank you for this amazing night.  
Neal.

You smiled sadly and you took the plate to microwave it, smoothing the note with your thumb. No, you thought. Thank you, Neal.

Two weeks later, the memories of that wonderful night were still haunting your every waking moment. More than once, you found yourself staring blankly at your computer screen, you mind heavily distracted by the image of his body dancing with yours or by the sound of your name on his lips when he came. After the electricity that you had felt that night, your life seemed now boring, almost tasteless, and you cursed yourself to feel that way for a mere one night stand. If you had known you could be so unprepared to deal with the emotions of that romantic - though you were sure it was not supposed to be so romantic and tender- evening, you would have bitten your tongue to refrain from offering to end the day at your place. Because, let's face it: in your mind, you had not been abandoned by a guy once but twice in the span of twenty-four hours.   
You shook your head to get these gloomy ideas out of your head and dove into work to keep yourself occupied. You were typing unenthusiastically on your keyboard when a young delivery boy with a red cap entered the office with a large bouquet, his heavy footsteps attracting the attention of everyone around you. Immediately, you could see from the corner of your eyes one of your colleagues strengthen herself with a very smug look on her face. Ivanna was famous for her long line of admirers fighting each other for her favours and everyone was also convinced, even you, that the flowers were once again for her as one of many tokens of affection from one of her suitors. Even if your chest burned with jealousy, you forced yourself to seem uninterested by the sudden intrusion in your workplace and to carry on what you were doing as though nothing happened. 

"Is there a (Y/N) (Y/F/N) here?" the voice of the delivery boy boomed, holding the bouquet high in the air.

Your head whipped back to the guy, eyes opened in surprise. To stunned to even care about the dirty look that Ivanna was throwing you, you weakly lifted your arm up.

"Tha-that's me" you stuttered, frowning deeply.

The boy hopped towards you and shoved the flowers, your favourites you noticed, in your hands and demanded a signature at the bottom of his official looking document. You scribbled something that looked vaguely like your name on the page and off he was, disappearing from your sight as abruptly as he had appeared with a quick "have a nice day". There were whistles of appreciation from your colleagues, cheering you on to tell you who would send you such beautiful flowers. A part of you was flattered to actually receive flowers but the other one was scared as hell. Could it be your ex trying to win you back? Was it some sort of a bad joke pulled by someone you knew? You turned the bouquet and found the card you were looking for attached to it. With trembling fingers, you opened it. On it was written a telephone number. That was it. No name, no address, nothing. Just a number.  
Under peer pressure (two of your colleagues had come to read over your shoulder and were blackmailing you into calling the number), you typed each number carefully not to make any mistake and held the mobile phone to your ear. He rang three times before the person on the other line answered. However, they did not say anything. 

"Hello?" You said. "Who's this? I've got the num..."

"So you received my flowers."

You gasped, recognizing the voice instantly. It was the voice of the man you had wished to see for the past two weeks now. In response, he just chuckled, the sound alone bringing a grin on your face. Seeing you all flustered and smiling, your colleagues left you alone, giving you some privacy to continue your phone call.

"Neal! Wha- How... did you find me? How do you know where I work?"

"I bumped into your landlady when I left that morning. She said she was happy that you got rid of the other good for nothing of a boyfriend and got some real man instead. I think the tuxedo made an impression on her. Anyway, once I had your full name, I've just asked a few friends who know friends who could help me out and find out where you work." He paused a bit, before asking quite anxiously. "Does that freak you out?"

"It should, probably," you laughed, "but I find all this terribly sweet."

You could hear the beaming grin in his voice when he resumed his talking.

"Good. That's good. I didn't know how to... I didn't know if you wanted me to... contact you again. You gave me the impression that you just wanted to have some fun that night and that was it."

You nodded slowly, your brows creased in confusion.

"That's was it was supposed to be, yes."

He cleared his throat, apparently ill-at-ease with this whole things. Which was funny, given the confident behaviour he had shown you during that evening.

"I know it's surely not what you want right now, but I was wondering if..."

He fell silent for a moment. You thought you heard some whispering on the other hand but you could not be sure. Afraid that the communication had been cut, you uttered his name on a worried tone and that seemed to snap him out of his mutism.

"I was wondering," he repeated more assertively this time "if you would like to meet me at the end of your work and go grab a bite or something?"

If you were not blushing, you were certainly as red as a beetroot now. You were a bit at loss of words, confused and terribly happy at the same time. You tried to hide all that behind a teasing remark.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

Contrary to what you expected, he did not deny it at all.

"Yes, I believe I am." He paused again and resumed shortly afterwards. "I know that's not what you've signed up for when you brought me back at your place, but..."

"No, it's certainly not what I've signed up for, but it sounds lovely. More than lovely actually."

It was his turn to tease you.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, it's a yes."

"Perfect! Would you like me to come and get you at your office when you are finished?"

You glanced around and noticed a few of you colleagues turning quickly their heads to hide the fact that they were blatantly trying to eavesdrop on your conversation and it was certain that they would try to spy on you if Neal picked you up at your workplace, but the nasty glare from Ivanna only spurred you to have the attention on you a little longer. You were sooo impatient to see her face when Neal would show up, she would be green with envy.

"Sounds good. It's a date then." You replied, all giddy.

"See you in an hour then." and he ended the conversation.

The second your call ended, you were surrounded by people curious to know who was the mysterious flower guy. You gave a vague explanation, avoiding pointedly to say anything about the night you two met and promised them that they would see him later that day.  
You resumed your work with a smile on your face, blissfully unaware that this date would be the first of many and would mark the beginning of your relationship with Neal Caffrey, Conman and Gentleman extraordinaire.


End file.
